


The Longest Week

by scifichicx



Series: Dark Web [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Abortion Issues, F/M, Gen, Jemma/Team friendshp, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:18:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifichicx/pseuds/scifichicx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons discovers she is pregnant and spends a week working out what she is going to do about that. She has moments of interaction with each member of the team (mainly Fitz and Coulson) as they help her through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> I live on feedback. If you could, please comment. Anything that sticks out as something you particularly like or something that needs work? I sincerely want to hear it. It honestly pushes me to keep writing.

Tuesday Morning. 5 am. 

“Shit,” Jemma whispered to herself. She stood in the tiny, fluorescent-lit bathroom and wanted to pretend that she was wrong; that the stupid little test was wrong. It just made more sense that it was right. She’d been sick for a week and her monthly problem was now about two weeks late. She closed her eyes and repeated, “Shit.” 

She wrapped the pregnancy test in toilet paper and hid it at the bottom of the trash bin. Just buying it had probably sent up some SHIELD red flag and she would step out of the bathroom to a baby shower and a reassignment meeting. Oh god. She would certainly get reassigned. Shit.

She felt weary as she silently left the bathroom. Her steps were heavy and her arms wrapped across her belly. She made her way to her bunk, but paused outside of Fitz’s door. He’d still be sound asleep for a few more hours. She leaned on the door, and tears welled in her eyes. Her fingers trembled as she punched in the lock code of his room. The door slid open and she slipped in and closed it behind her. He was expectedly unconscious, sprawled on the tiny bed with his arms flopped out. His shirt was off, but she knew he didn’t like to sleep naked so it wouldn’t be awful to tuck into bed with him. 

She curled up to his side and rest her head on his shoulder, realizing how cold she was the moment she relaxed against his warm skin. He mumbled something and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Even in his sleep he was there for her. She dreaded the daylight and all the secrets it would eventually reveal. For now, though, she felt safe and warm; enough to drift back to sleep despite a mountain of anxiety on her mind. 

Tuesday Morning. 8:30 am. 

It’s startling to fall asleep alone and wake up not alone. Fitz twitched awake before realizing that Simmons had crawled into bed with him some time during the night. She’d done if before, and he’d done the same with her, but they usually would wander back to their own room in the wee hours of the morning before the Bus was awake. His motions stirred her and Simmons snuggled closer with a sleepy grumble that made Fitz smile. He pet her hair fondly and said, “Rise and shine, Simmons. We’ve got a day to greet.” 

She replied with a vague sound and then she became very still. Fitz knew immediately that something was wrong. “Simmons? You alright?” He asked her. 

Anything more was interrupted by a knock on the door, “Fitzsimmons,” Coulson called. “Need you in the conference room in ten.” 

Both scientists groaned and Fitz called back, “Alright.” 

Simmons reluctantly pulled herself from the bed. Fitz sat up and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “Simmons?” 

“Later,” She told him. “We’ve work to do.” 

Tuesday Afternoon. 1 pm.

Jemma knew that if Leo was not the first person to know about her situation, it would be upsetting to both of them. On a plane full of secret operatives highly skilled in gleaning information and her inability to hide her distress it wouldn’t be long before someone asked her what was wrong and she would cave almost instantly. Thankfully, her mood had been dismissed as sleepiness and then she was off to the lab to be distracted by work. She would be distracted for a little while and then she would suddenly feel the weight of her secret all over again. She looked over at Fitz- elbows deep in a project- and wondered how she could have done this to them. It was a harsh and pointless thought, but she suddenly felt acutely responsible for the situation and all the grief it was sure to cause. 

“Fitz.” She called softly. 

He replied with a distracted, “hmm?”

She tried again, “Leo.” 

Fitz looked up at her immediately, his attention snapping from whatever he was soldering to his best friend. 

Guilty tears welled up in her eyes so she closed them and tilted her face up like that might hide her emotions. Fitz was at her side immediately, his project forgotten. “Jemma?” His hand rested gently on the small of her back. 

“I don’t want to tell you,” She admitted. 

He rubbed her back, “Tell me what?” 

“I’m so sorry-“ Her voice started to quiver and she had to hold her breath to keep in a sob. All the emotions she’d been dancing around were crashing over her. When she told Fitz it would then be real and she wasn’t ready for all that. 

Fitz looked around at the cameras in the lab. This was not a moment he wanted people spying on. “I think I need some more solder.” 

She gave him an incredulous look before she realized what he was doing. She nodded and took a deep, sobering breath. She waited for the flush to lighten on her face and she ducked her head before following Fitz to the supply closet. They tucked in and he closed the door behind them. “W’a’s this about, then?” 

Her arms wrapped around him and she let out the sob she’d been holding in since 5 o’clock that morning. Fitz held her tightly, his heart pounding with worry for her. “I’m pregnant.” She whimpered, clutching at him like a lifeline. 

He felt the blood drain out of his head. Tunnel vision threatened and he forgot how to breathe. He didn’t know if it was the news itself or her reaction to the fact that made him react so strongly. He tightened his hold on her, full of questions that didn’t really matter. After an eternity of silence he said, “I’m with you.” 

Tuesday Afternoon. 2 pm. 

They waited until Jemma didn’t look like a wreck before they went back to the lab. She still looked a bit dazed and disheveled, with mussed hair and smear-faded makeup. Fitz looked sober and thoughtful. Skye swiveled on the chair she’d perched on in the lab when they came back in. “Where the hell did you go?” She asked. 

“Supply closet.” Fitz replied. His tone firmly implied that she should drop it. 

Skye didn’t drop things. “Where are the supplies?” She asked. 

Fitz realized he’d come back empty handed. He looked at Jemma who was wide-eyed and silently begging him to save her. He puts his hands on his hips and leveled Skye with a look. “Tha’s classified.” 

Skye raised an eyebrow with a mischievous smirk and swiveled back to her computer. “Right. Forty minutes of classified.” 

Jemma’s cheeks burned when she realized how it looked. Fitz puffed up and started in on, “Hey, watch your tone, there.” 

“I got the schematics and they’re just about done uploading into your system,” Skye informed Fitz. 

Oh good. At least there was work to be done.


	2. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets don't keep long on this bus.

Wednesday Morning. 12:03 am. 

Jemma was more than thankful that the previous day had turned into a mission. She was left exhausted and didn’t even try to hide that she went into Fitz room when May called lights out. They changed into their sleeping clothes with their backs to each other; silent. What was there to say? Jemma hadn’t figured anything out and Leo didn’t want to distress her by talking about things she wasn’t ready to. 

She expected his questions and a stream of reassurances, but none came. Instead he was just there for her, patiently waiting for whatever it was she would decide that she needed. 

As she snuggled into his embrace, she both blessed and cursed the fact that the baby within her wasn’t his. Things would be easier and harder all at the same time. She wondered if she should call the man. She wasn’t even sure if she still had his number. She could probably use S.H.I.E.L.D. resources to look him up- or even ask Skye, but both options currently felt like too much to bear. Sleep fell suddenly upon her troubled mind and it was blissfully devoid of dreams.

Wednesday Morning. 8:30 am. 

KNOCK-knock-knock. “Is this becoming a habit with you two?” Coulson called into Fitz’s bunk. 

“No.” They said in unison. 

“I’m opening the door,” Coulson informed them. 

Simmons rubbed her eyes as she and Fitz sat up, limbs detangling as Coulson opened the door. Despite the early hour, Coulson looked fresh and ready for the day. Jemma felt moderately ill and she hoped that whatever conversation was about to happen wouldn’t be interrupted by her running out with morning sickness. 

“Listen,” Coulson began. “I know you two aren’t a normal pair, but I can’t cut you a blind eye when you’re this careless.” 

“Sir,” Fitz replied. “We aren’t-“

Coulson held up his hand to silence Fitz. “I don’t care. I care about how it looks and what that would mean if the wrong person wanted to use it against you. Do you want to be off this team?” 

Fitzsimmons lowered their heads. “No,” Fitz stated.

“No, sir,” Simmons said at the same time. 

Coulson nodded before adding, “And I don’t have to ask if you want to be separated.” 

The scientists shook their heads. 

He sighed. “I know you do this. I’ve known since Simmons jumped out of the plane. I understand. But you were… discreet, and suddenly you aren’t any more. I don’t know why, but you need to know that this behavior has to stop. Understand?” 

They nodded again, both softy saying, “Yes, sir.” 

Coulson nodded, satisfied with that. He looked at Simmons closely and she averted her eyes. She looked clammy and pale. He frowned a little, thinking back over her recent behavior. His tone softened and he told them, “If there’s anything you need to tell me, my door is open.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Fitz.

“Thank you, sir,” said Simmons. 

He looked them over again; a little too long for Jemma’s comfort. She squirmed internally and kept her eyes downcast until he finally left. When the door shut behind him, her cool faded and she started to shake with panic. Fitz immediately reached for her but she pushed him away. “No!” She told him. “What if he comes back in?” 

“Jemma-“ He started. She backed away and stumbled out of bed, putting distance between them. 

“No. Don’t, please.” A new set of fears revealed themselves to her mind. “Leo… If… If anyone knew-“ She shook her head. “They would think-“ Her hand settled on her belly without her realizing it. “Of course they would think you’re the father. All these nights we’ve shared a bed- That night in Vegas- we were out together. Our rooms were right next to each other. They’ll think-“ She paled further and swallowed abruptly. For a moment, she tried to keep her composure, but it was no use. She hurried from the room and to the toilets.

Fitz wanted to follow her, but she was right. Though a blood test could be done, that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t get reassigned before there was a chance. He needed to be there for her in the midst of all that she was going through, but how would it look? Like the guilty father making everything okay for the woman he knocked up? Fitz shifted from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching his hands.

Simmons barely made it. Her knees hit the floor harder than she intended and she clutched at the toilet seat as she was miserably sick. When the first, awful wave passed, she flopped over into a sitting position and pressed her cheek to the cold wall. She was vaguely aware of someone walking into the bathroom, but she felt too weak to move. “I’m fine, Fitz.” She said softly. 

There was a brief silence and then, “How far along are you?” Melinda May’s soft voice nearly sent Simmons out of her skin. She cowered into the corner beside the toilet, before the shock of being startled made her sick again. There was nothing left but dry, pathetic heaves and she knew there was no denying the accusation. May crouched beside her and gathered her hair back away from her face. Simmons wretched a few more times and finally slumped back to the wall. May got up and plucked a cup from the dispenser by the sink. She filled it and offered it to Simmons who took it with a trembling hand. 

“Nearly three months, I think.” Actually, she knew for a fact that she was seven weeks in. She rinsed her mouth with the water and spat. 

May nodded, her expression calm and without judgment. “The father?” 

Simmons cringed, “Some bloke I met when we touched down in Vegas.” She expected doubt, but May simply nodded again, taking her at her word. 

“Have you been in touch with him?” She asked. 

Simmons shook her head and took a sip of the remaining water. “No. I’ve only known since yesterday.” She squinted up at May, feeling rather bleak and asked her, “How long have you known?”

“A few days.” She replied. “I noticed you’d been sick, but I wasn’t sure.” 

“The test could be wrong,” Simmons mused. “They’re not entirely reliable.”

“Do you think it’s wrong?” May countered. 

Simmons sighed. “No, I don’t.” 

They lingered in silence for a moment. Finally Simmons looked May in the eye. “What should I do?” 

May softened just a bit; a hint of kindness in her eyes. “What do you want to do?” 

Simmons leaned her head back against the wall and groaned, “I don’t know.” 

“Yes, you do,” May insisted. 

Simmons closed her eyes. “I want it to be done with. I want to go back to being a scientist at the jump of her career, not a woman with a child from a man she barely knows.” 

May nodded and told her, “Right.” 

Simmons looked at May and felt an odd surge of strength fill her. May’s look was unwavering but blank. Whatever May’s personal opinion of the matter might be Simmons couldn’t find it. She was instead faced with a mirror, showing her own opinions back to her. She had always known what she really wanted and needed to do, but actually doing it? That was more difficult than it seemed. 

May stood back up, “You should tell Coulson; secrets don’t keep long on this bus.” 

Before Simmons could reply, May was gone. 

Wednesday Evening. 7 pm. 

Simmons had spent most of the day hiding from everyone. Fitz let her keep her distance even though it was making him crazy. He watched her like a hawk when she was nearby and worked distractedly when she wasn’t. Some time after she’d retreated to her bunk with dinner, she reemerged and took the long walk to Coulson’s office. 

His warning to her echoed in her ears. What if there was nothing he could do? What if her pregnancy went on record and then everything spiraled out of control? She thought back to the conversation with him after she’d been rescued from her skydive. We’d hate to lose you, he’d said. He obviously meant it, but that didn’t make her any less terrified to tell him what was going on. 

She knocked softly on the open door and he told her to come in. She timidly breached the entryway and held on to the edge of the door. “Do you mind if I close this, sir? I need to speak with you about something very personal.”

“Of course,” He replied gently and stood. She closed the door and took a few steps toward him. He indicated a chair, “Have a seat.” 

She nodded and sat down, gathering her thoughts together. “I appreciate what you said before; looking out for Fitz and I.” 

Coulson nodded, “I have a lot of years of experience. I’ve seen people separated for less.” 

He realized that was the wrong thing to say when Simmons turned white as a sheet. She got up suddenly and refused to meet his eyes. “Well, that’s all.” She told him too quickly. “Just wanted to say thanks for that-“ 

She went to bolt for the door, but he followed her and grasped her arm lightly, saying, “Jemma-” She froze up and he could feel a tremor in her under his hand. He let her go immediately and she shrank away. “You can tell me anything. I will help you and I will do my best to protect you.” 

She looked up at him and she felt so suddenly like a little girl. She wondered if he would be disappointed in her. It was such an ugly little thought, but there it was none-the-less, picking at her confidence like a cancer. “Sir,” she started. She crumbled a bit, her face scrunching to fight off tears before she turned away. 

He touched her arm again, this time grounding her with the slight contact. “It’s alright, Jemma. Whatever it is. I promise.” 

She nodded, keeping her eyes closed to steel her nerve. “Well, sir… You see… I’ve just found out I’m pregnant.” 

Coulson blinked and let his thoughts race and then quiet. “I see,” was the best reply he could manage in the moment. The news was a shock, but as he thought back on the past 48 hours, it made perfect sense.

She writhed under the perceived judgment. “I know what you’re thinking. I know it looks that way, but Fitz isn’t the father.” 

Coulson nodded once, trying to keep his expression neutral. She looked at him then and crumbled a little on the inside. “You don’t believe me,” she stated.

“I-“ He thought it through. They had been acting off recently, but only recently. The first time he’d ever doubted the platonic nature of their relationship was that very morning. Thankfully he knew that Jemma was practically incapable of lying. “Jemma, I’ll ask you this only once, because it is important, and I want you to look me in the eye when you answer.” She nodded and he tried to be gentle when he asked, “Have you and Fitz ever engaged in sexual activity?” 

Jemma shook her head, eyes locked on Coulson’s, “No, sir. Never.” 

Coulson nodded. “I believe you.” 

All the tension drained from Simmons and she leaned against the door. “Thank you.” 

“But you’re right; it looks bad.” Coulson told her. “You have more contact with him than anyone else. You two are very close. Most people will judge that incorrectly and be sure they’re right.” 

Simmons knew that was very likely, “What do I do?”

Coulson hesitated, but he needed to know something before they could formulate a plan. “Do you know if you’re going to keep it?”

Again, her hand found its way to her belly. She tried to tell herself that it was hormones and chemicals making her hesitate. “I- I don’t know. I don’t think so.” 

“That’s not a decision you have to rush into,” he assured her. “But if you do want to go that route then we can help you and make sure that the matter is handled discreetly.”

Simmons hesitated, “Will it be on record?”

Coulson had to nod, “It’s supposed to be. And I’ll be honest it’s a difficult thing to hide. I have a doctor that owes me a favor, but just getting you to him will look suspicious.”

Panic threatened once more and Simmons fidgeted. “I don’t want to leave,” she said. “I don’t even know how to work without Fitz.”

“I’m not going to let it come to that. At the end of the day, you hold the proof.” He looked to where her hand was protectively resting on her abdomen. “Get a paternity test. Then you’ll have the hard evidence and there won’t be anything they can do.” 

Simmons nodded and took a deep breath to calm herself. She became a shining example of British resilience as she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “Alright. I’ll let you know what I decide and we’ll go from there.” 

“If you need anything…”

“Thank you, sir.”


	3. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The work is hard to let go of, isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this, please leave a comment. :)

Thursday Morning. 1:35 am

It was always so cold on the bus. Jemma let the chill soak into her bones. She shivered and clutched at her cup of tea gone tepid. She’d never felt so alone in her life. Equal parts of fear, misery and irrational rage left her numb and staring at the galley wall. She didn’t hear Ward walk up, but she caught the scent of him, hot from a workout, before he spoke. 

“What are you doing up?” He asked as he pulled a bottle of water. She watched him click the top open and consume half the bottle in one go. She took a moment to look at him in the faint blue light, sweat on his face and his hair spiky with it. 

Suddenly Jemma realized that she was done giving a shit. “I can’t sleep,” she said.

Ward nodded, though all she’d given him was the obvious answer. “You okay?” 

“I’m pregnant.” She told him. 

He froze and furrowed his brow slightly, not sure if she was screwing with him. Her expression was too somber and raw for it to be a joke. Ward took his towel off his shoulder and slung it over a chair back before sitting down across from her. “You don’t look like congratulations are in order.” 

She shook her head. “I’m a wreck,” she confessed. 

Ward realized just how unqualified he was for a conversation as delicate as this. He tried out a few questions in his mind and ended up not liking any of them. He found himself looking at the table top, drawing a complete blank. 

It was awkward for a moment, but then Jemma realized that she was fine with silence. She sank back into her thoughts and Ward went into thoughts of his own. Eventually, he just reached across the table and took her hand. She blinked and looked down at his large, strong hand covering her tiny one. Her eyes went glassy, but she smiled.

Thursday Morning. 9:40 am. 

Jemma didn’t remember getting into bed, but that was where she woke up. The last thing she really remembered was sitting at the table with Ward until weariness made her eyelids droop. It occurred to her that Ward may very well have carried her to her room. She smiled to herself. Ever the protector; that Grant Ward. Under his bravado and prickliness was a kind, caring heart. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock at her door. “Simmons?” Fitz called softly. 

“I’m awake,” she replied. He opened the door while she finally got a look at the clock. “Oh God! Why did everyone let me sleep in so late?” 

Fitz shrugged and handed her a glass of orange juice. She sat up and scooted to make room for him on the bed. “Seemed like you needed the rest,” he carefully replied as he sat.

Simmons huffed and drank a bit of juice. “I’m not broken,” she told him. 

“I know that!” Fitz said. They both looked surprised at how defensive he sounded. His shoulders slumped. “Sorry,” he added. 

They fell into silence. 

Finally, Simmons cleared her throat. Fitz glanced over at her. She bit her lip and then asked, “What would you say if I kept it?” 

Fitz cringed a little. “I’d say that’s up to you.” 

Jemma scowled. “Fine then, what would you actually think?”

Fitz squirmed, “Don’t make me answer that.” 

“Why not?” she insisted. 

He sighed, “Because no one’s opinion matters more than yours.”

“You don’t want me to keep it,” she said. 

“Jemma…” Fitz pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes shut. 

Simmons sighed in frustration. “I need to talk to someone about this. I need more than rattling around inside my own head.”

He turned to face her and said, “If you become a mother, you can’t stay on the bus. You’ll be relocated.”

“We could be relocated together,” she offered.

“You wanted this assignment,” he replied. “You wanted it so badly.” 

“And you wanted to stay somewhere safe and tucked away,” she said. 

“This isn’t about me,” he shot back. The conversation was starting to feel a little surreal for Fitz. 

“It’s about us,” she insisted. “It affects both of our lives.” 

“He was a stranger, Jemma. He’s some pretty face you wanted for a good time. That’s no father. When you start a family, it should be on your terms with someone who matters to you.” Fitz cut himself short. Some kind of strange jealousy burned hot on the back of his neck. 

Simmons looked over at him, observing his guarded body language and his frown. She didn’t need to pry into that one because she understood perfectly. Feelings that stayed untouched in a reserved corner of her heart sprang to life. She knew he would support her no matter what she did, but he was right; this wasn’t how she wanted her life to be. Yet again, her choice was clear and yet again she was gripped with hesitation. “I just-“ she began. “I just feel wrong about ending it.” 

Fitz turned to her and took her hands. “Like I said, this isn’t about me. Don’t do anything you can’t live with.” 

She searched his eyes and what she found was support and love. In her eyes, there was only uncertainty. 

Thursday Afternoon. 4 pm. (EST).

It turned out that she did have his number. He was in her phone as “Sam Vegas Shag.” She didn’t really remember taking the number down. All she really remembered was Fitz leaning close to her ear and asking if she was sure she wanted to run off with him. She assured him that she’d wanted a pickup for ages and that she would be fine. She thanked him for looking out for her and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Sam asked if Fitz was her brother. She told him he was her best friend and gave Fitz a wink before they stumbled off to Sam’s room. 

She started dialing and then hung up. What the hell was she going to say? He probably didn’t even want to know. She set the phone on the coffee table and rubbed her eyes. Would talking to him make any difference? She wouldn’t know until she spoke to him and this was half his fault anyway. She forced herself to pick up the phone and hit the call button again. 

It connected and she held her breath. But it wasn’t a man who answered, it was a beep and an automated voice informing her that the number she’d called was no longer in service. She winced, wondering if it had ever been a real number at all. Well then, guess he didn’t rightly care what she did. It was too bad that she didn’t feel the same way. 

Thursday Evening. 7 pm. 

The bus touched down in Singapore and everyone was told to get some rest for the evening. Coulson stayed on the bus and Jemma asked to stay as well. 

“You could use some fresh air,” he insisted. 

Simmons insisted right back, “I’m not really up to it, sir. I’d rather be where I’m comfortable.” 

Skye tried to get Simmons and Fitz to go out for some quick sight-seeing and a drink. Simmons realized abruptly that Skye was the only one who didn’t know. She hadn’t really meant for that to happen, but she wasn’t ready to have that conversation with her looking so bright-eyed and excited to get a break. She told the two of them to go have fun. Fitz was reluctant to leave until Jemma fixed him with a meaningful look. “I think it might be better,” she said. 

All Skye knew is that there was more to that statement and Fitz caught whatever cryptic thing it was that she meant. He put on a smile and offered Skye his arm. Simmons smiled until they were out of sight and then sighed wearily before wandering to the lab. 

Thursday Night. 10:00 pm. 

Simmons was getting that little crick in her back that meant she’d been bending over the microscope a little too much. She’d gone over every side project twice and started on a couple more. Without Fitz there was no spark in her work. It was just a series of things to fill the time. 

She heard the doors of the lab swish open and glanced over at Coulson who leaned on the door frame and slipped his hands in his pockets. “This is supposed to be your night off,” he said. 

She countered with a smile. “And I am doing what I love to do.” 

He shrugged out of the doorway and strode over to Simmons, glancing at her work over her shoulder and marveling at how brilliant the young woman was. 

“What about you, sir?” She said without looking back at him. “You’ve still got your suit and tie.” 

Coulson glanced down at himself, realizing it only after she’d called him out. “Guess you’re right.” He watched her for another moment before adding, “The work is hard to let go of, isn’t it?” 

She paused in her motions and let the statement sink in before finally turning around. She pulled off her lab goggles and took more care than necessary to fold them up. “I tried to call the father.” 

“And?” he prompted, gently. 

Simmons sighed, “And his number had been disconnected.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. It was what it was. Neither of us wanted anything to do with each other outside of-“ She shrugged. “What you must think of me.” 

Coulson straightened up, “I think that you’re a woman who knows what she wants out of life. I think you did something that every one of us has done before. There’s no shame in it. I’m just sorry it worked out like this.” 

“I’m careful, you know? I wasn’t on birth control, but I know damn well how to use a condom and what the risks are. I’m a biologist for God’s sake. I’ve never had a mishap before and, yes, I know, it only takes once, but even at my drunkest I am so acutely aware of what to do and what not to do-“ She stopped herself abruptly and scrunched her eyes closed. 

Coulson let her dump on him; he could tell she’d had that one pent up for a while. “And you knew there would always be one last option.” 

“I know… It’s just…” She wrapped her arms around herself before finishing, “My baby…” 

Coulson’s heart broke for her. He couldn’t even begin to understand the burden she must be feeling. He opened his arms and Simmons stepped into the comforting hug. She held him tight, thinking of her father and how much she missed both of her parents. Despite being pushed to the level of people with ten-plus years on her, she was still in her early twenties and she felt the weakness of her youth very acutely in that moment. Coulson rubbed her back soothingly until she thought she had probably overstayed her welcome and withdrew. 

Coulson took her by the arms and looked her in the eye. “Anything you decide; you will have our support.”


	4. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simmons makes her decision.

Friday Morning. 1 am. 

Something Fitz loved about bars was that they were the same across the world. Yes there were certainly differences between a Scottish pub and an American bar, but a dive was a dive and that was exactly where he and Skye had found themselves. He’d hit the drinks hard until Skye took notice and gently eased him back. He was drunk but thankfully not massively pissed. 

It hadn’t taken long for Skye to notice his bad mood, so she’d tread carefully. Every once in a while he’d mention Simmons and suddenly his smile would fade. She wondered if their little romance was on the outs but she got the serious vibe that he wouldn’t be up to talking about it at all. For the most part they stuck to tales of drinking and comparing the favorite bars that they’d ever been to.

Eventually they stumbled their way back to the Bus instead of opting for a S.H.I.E.L.D.-sanctioned hotel. Fitz was full of Scottish bravado and Skye was getting a little smothered by his rowdy attitude. She said a quick goodnight to him and watched him fumble with the keypad on his room a couple of times before she ducked in to her own. Fitz scowled at the uncooperative keypad and gave up, staggering to Simmons’ bunk instead.

She was still awake, researching details on pregnancy and… ending one… when she heard him slump against her door and whine, “Jemma.” After a short pause, he added, “I’m too drunk to get into my room.”

She set her tablet aside and opened the door, then wrinkled her nose at the strong smell of bar clinging to Fitz from head to toe. “Good night, then?” She asked him. 

“No,” he pouted and took a heavy step through the doorway. “I spent all night worryin’ about you.” 

His accent was thicker when he had a few drinks in him. Simmons huffed and moved to sit on the bed. “I’m so sorry I inconvenienced you,” she said. Fitz followed and dropped on the bed beside her. “You stink,” she added. 

Fitz sniffed at himself with a slight frown. “Don’ be like tha’, Jemma. I’m no’ tryin’ to pick a fight.”

“What are you doing, then?” She folded her arms and scowled at him. She looked so pretty doing it that Fitz just smiled, which only made her scowl worsen. “Fitz.”

“I don’ know,” he confessed. “For the pas’ few days I haven’ had a bloody clue what ta do.” He folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them. He felt so damn useless. The edge fell off her anger and she set her hand on his back. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the contact. “I can’t stand seein’ you like this. I just want my Simmons back.” 

She warmed with the sentiment and leaned her forehead on his shoulder. He moved so he could get his arm around her and snuggled up to her side. They leaned on each other, drawing strength. “I want that, too,” she finally said. “I’m so scared, Fitz. I just want my life back, but I feel so guilty.” 

“Why?” 

“Because there is this life happening in me. It’s life, Fitz. These cells can become a little person and that- isn’t that incredible? All that potential life?” She was looking up at him and when he turned to look back he could feel her breath on his face. He leaned his forehead against hers with a heavy sigh. 

“It is, yeah” He told her. “But… what about… all your potential life?” 

Simmons clutched at his shirt as sudden tears welled in her eyes. She knew that was really it and she wanted to live her life. The feelings of guilt and selfishness that assaulted her were probably mostly chemical; the brain was wired to make women want to have babies and then to love them. The whole neurological process was actually rather freaky and Jemma had thought that before she was suddenly with child. She tucked her head beneath Fitz’s chin and finally forced herself to come to a decision. "You're right," she told him. Then said it again more to herself. Her voice was soft and sad when she stated, “I’m going to end it.” 

Friday Morning. 10 am. 

Simmons sat in Coulson’s office with Fitz at her side. He took her hand and this time she didn’t push him away. Coulson said nothing. 

“Sir,” Simmons began, looking quite herself as she donned a polite smile and a pleasant tone. “I’ve had some time to think and I feel that the proper course of action for me is to bring this pregnancy to an end.” 

Coulson nodded, hands folded on his desk. He simply replied with, “I’m glad you’ll be able to remain with us.” 

She refreshed her smile, but Coulson could see her cheer cracking at the seams. “I’ve done a bit of research and paternity testing can’t be done before the ninth week. That also corresponds to a shift in possible…” She swallowed and forced out the next word, “Abortive methods.” It was the first time she’d said the word out loud and it left a decidedly sour taste in her mouth. “That length of gestation rides on the cusp of the simpler medication-based procedures and the moderately more complicated aspiration method that requires a clinical procedure.” 

Coulson took the information in. “Meaning we can handle this in a way that’s more under the radar, but sacrifice the opportunity to prove parentage, or we wait until it can be confirmed that Fitz is not the father and then have to actually admit you to a clinic.” 

Simmons shrugged, “I could always try to learn the procedure-“

“No.” Coulson leaned forward, his eyes sharp and intense. “Absolutely not. The stress of this is already enough for you to be subjected to without allowing you to do something like that.” 

Simmons sat back in her chair, fully aware that her superior officer was not a man to be argued with. Not to mention the fact that he was right. If it had been Skye or May, none of this would be a problem; she could take care of the matter internally and no one would be the wiser. The only person vaguely capable of being able to do it besides her was Fitz and she would never, ever put him in a spot like that.

Finally she cleared her throat and stated, “I can do the paternity test.” 

Coulson shook his head, “You’d best not; we don’t know if that’ll hold up.” 

Simmons sighed and her shoulders slumped wearily. “Then it would be best if we find some place that can perform the paternity test and then get on with the procedure right away.” 

But Agent Coulson always had a plan. “I’ve got a friend in Morocco and another in New York. We’ll take care of the paternity test and lay low for a week. Then we’re going to have leave. Fitz, Skye and I are going to officially take you to a show. In reality, I will personally escort you and whoever else you choose to the facility.” 

Simmons was stunned. “Oh,” was her only reply. It had only been a couple of days and he had somehow managed to take care of everything. She felt very cared for.

“In the meantime, try to relax. You’ve been under a lot of stress this week; understandably so.” He stood, signaling that their meeting was over. 

The scientists stood in unison. “Thank you, sir,” Simmons said. 

Coulson gave her a sad smile, “You’re part of this team, Agent Simmons. We’re here for you.” 

Fitz gave Coulson a meaningful look and a nod before his hand rested on Jemma’s back so he could guide her out of the office. Only after they were gone did Coulson brace his hands on his desk, leaning against it heavily with a sigh.


	5. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She readily blames it on the hormones, but Jemma needs to say goodbye.

Monday Morning. 2 am. 

The weekend in Singapore had produced a fairly fascinating case of a human with a symbiotic relationship with a deadly fungus. Simmons had been so enthralled that she’d hardly had time to think about her pregnancy. She and Fitz fell back into the flow of work and she was more confident than ever that she was making the correct choice. 

That didn’t stop her from finding herself in the lab after everyone had gone to bed with an ultrasound wand pressed low on her belly. It was a study in masochism, she thought to herself as she held her breath, waiting for the image to materialize on the holo-display and the screen behind it. The image appeared on the screen first; a gray-scale image of her uterus and a small lump that didn’t look very clear. That wouldn’t do. Jemma let go of her lifted blouse to type a series of commands in the computer. The system recalibrated and she got back into position. Finally, the holographic display flickered to life. The smooth planes of her uterine lining materialized in 3-D orange lines before her. A moment later, a tiny lump of flesh changed from orange to red and Jemma felt her heart jump. 

She pinched and zoomed on the itty-bitty lump and after an instant of delay; there it was, clear as day. She seemed to stare at it for a breathless eternity. “Hello, you,” she finally said to the tiny embryo. She was awestruck. “You’re quite a remarkable little lump of cellular material, aren’t you?” Despite the clinical choice of words, she said it so fondly. 

Her free hand drifted up and she let her fingers hover over the image. “I just, um…” She marveled at the tiny limbs with miniature fingers and toes and remembered that in a short time they would be gone from her. “I just wanted to see you,” she told it. She swallowed as sudden tears came back. “Just once. I-“ She ducked her head as the full weight of guilt swept over her. Tears spilled from her eyes. “I’m sorry, little one,” she said, her voice breaking on the words. She closed her eyes, took a steadying breath and felt the hot tears drip off of her cheeks. 

She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. “You’re not even a real thing yet,” she added. “You’re nothing at all. You haven’t a thought.” She actually started to calm herself when she said that out loud. Her pained emotions soothed by the ever-comforting solidity of fact. She wistfully added, “You’re just a hint of potential in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She shook her head and sniffled as she pulled her composure back into place. “I would have loved you far too much, anyway,” she quickly finished before jabbing the button that made the image go away.

She didn’t hear Skye wander down, or see her lazily lean on the open door frame of the lab, innocently spying on what she figured would be something cool and S.H.I.E.L.D.-y. She had no idea that Skye had heard the whole thing, frozen and silent in the gravity of what she’d stumbled upon. But when Simmons abruptly turned away from the display, she saw Skye there and gasped, dropping the ultrasound wand to the floor with a horrible clatter. She immediately crouched down to pick it up, flustered beyond words. Skye was there at her side, picking up the wand for her. They looked up at each other at the same moment. Skye had tears on her face and such deep empathy burning in her eyes. Jemma sniffled and gulped in a breath and then Skye wrapped her arms around Simmons, holding her so tight it was like she was trying to hold the other woman together. Simmons nearly collapsed into the embrace and clung to Skye as fierce sobs wracked her body.

Monday Morning. 8:30 am.

Coulson knocked on the door of Fitz room. “Fitzsimmons,” he called in, clearly agitated. “We talked about this.” 

Fitz opened the door, grumpily scrubbing at his hair. “What are you goin on about,” he said. “Jemma’s no’ here.” 

Coulson frowned and told Fitz, “She’s not in her room.” 

“Did’ja check the lab?” Fitz offered, still on his way to being fully awake. 

“I check the lab first,” Coulson said. 

Fitz frowned, a sickly feeling of worry gripping his gut. “I din’kno’ where she is,” he confessed. 

Coulson took the step over to Skye’s room and knocked. “Skye, are you up?” 

In her room, Skye cracked one eye open and squinted at the day light coming in her bunk window. She had an arm full of Simmons and the previous night came back clearly. They’d stayed on the floor of the lab for ages as Simmons tumbled through a recap of her hellish week. When she had no more words, Skye had helped Simmons back upstairs and offered her room. Simmons was still out cold; poor thing was probably exhausted. She tried to pull her arm from beneath Simmons as gently as she could. Coulson knocked again and Simmons whimpered. “Skye?” he called. 

“Shh!” Skye hissed at the door as she successfully disengaged. She tripped over a sneaker and cursed at it softly before opening her door. She looked at Coulson’s concerned face and Fitz right behind him, equally concerned. “Oh, I get it.” She mumbled. “She’s fine. She had a rough night last night so I let her stay in here. And yes, I know. I am the last- whatever- but I know.” 

“Ward doesn’t know,” Fitz offered. 

“Totally does,” Skye shot back. “She said she told him last week. I don’t really care.”

Fitz looked like he was still processing that Ward knew. Skye wanted to bop him over the head with a pillow. Coulson looked relieved. “We’ve gotten everything sorted out for her,” he told Skye.

“About that,” Skye began. “Are you sure that what you all are having her do is what she wants to do?” 

Fitz puffed up in that way that he does when he thinks someone has just insulted Simmons. “Of course we’re sure,” he insisted. “She made the decision.” 

“Yeah, well, she didn’t seem so sure last night.” 

“What on Earth did you say to her?” Fitz asked, stepping forward. Coulson felt the confrontation starting to boil. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Skye snapped back, folding her arms. “I listened. To everything. Everything she probably won’t tell you guys because she wants to be strong for the macho club.” 

Fitz looked like he’d been slapped across the face. Coulson was about to interject but Simmons’ soft voice brought everything to a halt. “I made peace with it,” she stated. 

The other three team members turned to face her. She looked so tired. Fitz reached past Skye and shoved his way into the room so he could stand next to Simmons. He had this look like it was time for him to return to his proper place as best friend and that Skye should consider herself done. Skye ignored him, looking at Simmons. “As long as you’re sure,” Skye prodded. 

Simmons nodded and leaned slightly against Fitz. “I’m sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want the story to end here it does. However, the sequel to this is All Fall Down. If you wanted things to get epic, read the sequel.


End file.
